


I Don't Love Him

by mysongsknowhatyoudidinthedark



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Sexual Content, Mild Language, One Shot, england and america being bros, france and england being dorks, mentions of past rusame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 16:58:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2117718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysongsknowhatyoudidinthedark/pseuds/mysongsknowhatyoudidinthedark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>America and England spend time together, and they discuss their relationships with other countries (namely, England's with France).</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Love Him

America and England were spending time together  ~~totally not because their bosses were making them~~. They were in America's summer home in Southern California, an hour south of LA. America was bored out of his mind, and he needed groceries, so they did exactly what they needed to do. They drove to get some.

 

"I'll drive," England stated, stepping toward the passenger side of the car.

 

"Other side, dude," America reminded him as he waited until England got into the driver's seat to hop in next to him.  _This is going to be interesting_ , he thought.

 

"Okay, where's the ignitian in this thing?" the Brit asked.

 

"Oh, for Christ's sake, why don't I drive?" America asked.

 

"Shut up, and let me drive," he snapped. He turned the key, switched the gear to reverse, and backed up.

 

"Would you look at that, you can actually somewhat drive here."

 

"You're such an arse."

 

"Yeah, I know." America nodded.

 

"Okay, now tell me where the store is," England told him.

 

"Turn left here," he said. "Britain, we're in America."

 

"Shit," he hissed, attempting to switch sides of the road.

 

"How about you get out, and I drive?"

 

"I can drive a bloody car on the right side of the road, thank you very much."

 

"Turn right. Remember,  _right side_ ," America said

 

"Yeah, yeah," England rolled his eyes.

 

The car became silent, which only broke when America told the other nation the directions. But he eventually decided to talk. "So, how's France?"

 

"He's... France..."

 

"Yeah, mmhmm," the American nodded.

 

"What're you implying?"

 

"Oh, nothing. It's just I reacted the same way when you asked about Russia during the Cold War, and I was screwing him, so you know..." America shrugged.

 

"I am not shagging him!" England protested. "Why the hell would I even let him?"

 

"Come on, dude." America eyed him. "Don't lie to me."

 

"I'm not!" he repeated. "Ugh, you and Canada are both up my arse about it."

 

"We both know it's true," America sings.

 

"Okay, so he proposed to me  _one time_ , and now you think we're up for it!"

 

"Up for it?" America looked puzzled. "Is that a euphamism for--"

 

"Of course it's a euphamism!" he snapped, blushing wildly.

 

The car went quiet, but only for a moment. "I didn't know he proposed to you," the other nation giggled.

 

"Oh, for fuck's sake--"

 

"Okay, okay!" America threw up his arms in defeat. "I'll stop."

 

"Thank you," England sighed.

 

"Turn right here," he said.

 

The Englishman nodded, turning into the shopping center, where, right in the center of it, was a giant grocery store, larger than anything he'd had ever seen. "Blimey, your stores are huge."

 

"It's convenient," the other nation shrugged.

 

They went inside, retrieved the desired foods, and went to the cash register. "I didn't know your stores even sold fruits," England stated.

 

"I'm not one of the first in amount of produce for nothing, you know," America pointed out.

 

"Yeah, I'll give you that." England went over to the magazines sitting next to the line. "Is that William and Kate on  _your_  magazine?"

 

"What?" America asked, absentmindedly.

 

"William and Kate of England on your magazine?" he repeated

 

"Oh, yeah. They're totally nuts about them," the American nodded. "I mean, I don't really care, but the tabloids were freaking out when Prince George was born."

 

"It's fascinating how obsessed you are with British culture," England noted.

 

"I am not--"

 

"Do the Beatles mean anything to you? James Bond? One Direction? Doctor Who?" 

 

America blushed. "Your British invasions better stop."

 

"Nah, I like people enjoying my stuff," he shrugged. "Let's get going along, then."

 

 

* * *

 

The car ride home wasn't any better. America, despite his promise not to, decided to tease his brother about France. Very persistantly, too.

 

"I swear to God, I will murder your children  _and_ your grandchildren if you don't  _shut the hell up_ ," England snapped.

 

"Countries can't have children," the American pointed out.

 

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" he shouted. "I don't fancy France--I hate his sorry arse. I have not,  _nor will I ever_ , shag him, and we're not secretly dating or anything!"

 

"Remember that one time I walked in on you two--"

 

"That was one time!" He blushed, turning into the driveway. "We weren't doing anything, we were just snogging!"

 

"Well, there was certainly very few clothes for 'just snogging,'" America pointed out, putting air quotes around the last two words.

 

"I can't believe you. I'm going inside," England muttered, storming his way to the room he stayed in.

 

 _The nerve of that boy_! thought England. He had rightly believed that he should strangle him, but he didn't have the heart or the energy to, so he decided to sulk in his room. When sulking didn't do the trick, he groaned, pulling out his laptop. He was going to skype France.

 

England: Wanna skype?

 

France: It's late, but sure.

 

England: I don't want to keep you from sleep. I forgot about the time difference. I'm sorry.

 

France: Oh yes, that's right. You're in America, no?

 

England: Yeah.

 

France: Get online, before I change my mind.

 

France's face popped up on his computer screen. He held a glass of wine and was in his typical attire--a purple collared shirt. "It's nice seeing you," he said.

 

"I'd like to say the same." England curled his lip in thought. "You know America is under the delusion that we are in love with each other?"

 

"How ridiculous! I would never love you!" France gasped.

 

"I know, the audacity," he chuckled. "But still."

 

"Still?"

 

"I was just... thinking..." the Englishman stammered, his face turning a bright shade of red.

 

"And?"

 

"I don't know." Because he truly didn't.

 

"I'm afraid I can't express your feelings for you," France reminded him, as he took a big gulp from his glass.

 

"I know." Because he did.

 

"What are you feeling right now?"

 

He thought about his choice of words when he finally decided on them. "I feel funny."

 

"Funny?"

 

"Yes, funny." England nodded.

 

"Care to ellaborate?"

 

"Well..." England sighed.  _Just do it_. "My heart races a million miles a minute whenever I'm near you." He paused, contemplating his next explanation. "And my stomach feels like it's churning." He looked down, turning red. "My chest feels a tad warm whenever I think about you."

 

"Warm?"

 

"Yes,  _warm_ ," he snapped, his brows turning up in anger. His features suddenly softened. "It feels warm."

 

France's face at him made his heart skip a beat. It was filled with affection, and love, and longing. "I think I may know what ails you, my friend. You see, I have the same symptoms as you."

 

"A-and what is that?" the Brit asked.  _Oh no,_  he thought.  _We're fucked_.

 

"Love."

**Author's Note:**

> I might add more to this. I'm not really sure. If I feel up to it, and if it works with the story, I'll update. Also, I started school recently so I probably won't be posting all that much in terms of any of my fics.


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